I Was Only Dreaming
by emmalied
Summary: Karen throws Sarah out of the house during Christmas Break for "being a bad influence". Sarah resigns herself to driving all the way back to her college, when a familiar figure from her past decides to offer her a place to stay.
1. If You Were Born in Heaven Girl

If you were born in heaven girl  
I'd understand so well  
But ever since I've met you child  
You've made my life such hell  
With every day that passes  
I fall nearer to the ground  
It seems that I've been looking for  
Something that won't be found  
I was only Dreaming  
I was only trying to catch your eye  
I was only wishing you would notice me  
Instead you said goodbye

-"Dreaming" by OMD

* * *

"I'm telling Mom you did it anyways."

"Shut up, Toby."

Toby ducked out of reflex as his older sister chucked a throw pillow at his head. The decorative accessory flew by his head, ruffling his sandy blond hair as it passed. It hit Sarah's vanity on the wall behind him, knocking several items, including a book, perfume, and a music box off of it's polished surface. The mirror clattered dangerously against the wall, and both brother and sister eyed it nervously, not really wanting to explain to Karen how they broke the old vanity. It stilled after a second, and they relaxed. Sarah stood and ruffled her brother's hair fondly as she knelt by the table and began picking up her belongings that had fallen.

Sarah was now 20 years old, and a sophomore in college. Her black, wavy hair was now almost waist-length, and today, she had it pulled back in a loose, sloppy braid like it usually was. It was too long to do anything else with otherwise within a reasonable time frame. Her alabaster skin lay smoothly on her tiny, five foot, five inches frame, accentuated by her dark hair as a few strands escaped her braid and brushed against her arms. Her wide, emerald eyes scanned her possessions carefully, looking for any terrible damage, and they closed in relief when she realized there was none.

She stood, the perfume, book, and box carefully gathered in her arms, her clothes rustling slightly as she extended her legs from her crouch. Gone were the frilled poet shirts she had usually worn when she was younger. In it's place was a green tank top that cut off at her midriff, revealing why she had thrown the pillow at Toby in the first place; a simple ring pierced her naval, glittering slightly in the dimly lighted room. Skinny jeans hugged her hips and legs snugly, flaring out slightly at her ankles, revealing a small pair of bare, white feet.

She deposited her items in their respectful places on her vanity, and then turned and leaned smoothly against it, breathing in deeply and staring around her room. It felt good to be back.

She was back in New York on her three-week Christmas break from a public college in Maine. She hadn't come home for Thanksgiving, as her anatomy teacher from hell had decided to spring a test on Sarah and her classmates the day they returned from Fall Break. Rather than driving all the way to New York, and then spend all her time studying instead of catching up with her family, she had decided to just stay in Maine and celebrate the holiday with a small group of friends who weren't going home either.

As the young woman glanced around what had been her bedroom, she couldn't help but notice how different it was. She pursed her lips in a delicate pout as she noted the absence of her stuffed animal version of Sir Didymus, and then gave her head a little shake. Perhaps it was better for all of them if the toy wasn't anywhere in her line of vision. Dwelling over her friends from the Underground usually led to guilty thoughts of wishing Toby away to the goblins. And that, in turn, led her to think about the Goblin _King_, which she tried to do as little as possible. But still, she would have to talk to Karen about moving things around while she was at college, where she could do nothing about it.

Toby began jumping on her bed, his shaggy pale hair flapping around his round, boyish face, breaking her out of her memories.

"Wait 'till Mom finds out you got your belly button pierced!" The seven year old's eyes were alight with mischief as he bounced carelessly on her full-sized mattress. The old bed groaned underneath the tension, and Sarah bit her lip; this room was the only guest bedroom of the house, and she really didn't feel like sleeping on the couch if her faithful bed decided to croak beneath the feet of her little brother. She decided to placate him.

"Alright, Toby," she sighed, holding her hands up, "you caught me. Just don't tell Karen, okay?"

"What's in it for me?" The boy cross his legs quickly in mid-bounce, and landed Indian style on her haphazard sheets with a final groan from her box springs. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and cupping his chin in his hands, staring at Sarah with his inquisitive blue eyes. The girl had to resist the urge to flinch. He reminded her so much of _him _when he stared at her with such a wanting expression.

"I'll take you to the park later, and we can have a snowball fight, 'kay?" It would be a great sacrifice; Sarah hated the cold, hated how it made her feel, so lonely and desolate, like when Linda had vanished from her life. But she would rather play with her brother for a few hours in the park than have to face an irate Karen and have an argument her first morning back home. She huffed softly. The argument would come sooner or later, she knew. But she had been an adult for two years now, and Karen wasn't even her real _mother_. She had no right to tell her what she could and couldn't do. But her stepmother was oddly possessive like that.

"Now?"

"I dunno, Toby, it's only seven o'clock and-"

"Mom's still asleep, and I don't think she would like it if I woke her up to tell her you got your-"

"Alright!" Sarah threw her hands up in mock exasperation. She swore this kid was going to grow up to be a politician one day. Either that or a lawyer. Like father like son. "We'll go now!"

"Yay!" Toby bolted off of her bed in a blue of green polyester shirt and blue denim jeans. He ran into her, knocking the breath out of her as he wrapped his thin arms around her waist. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou, Sarah!" He stepped away, suddenly looking more excited than before. "I have something to show you, anyways, and he doesn't come out in the afternoon."

"He?" Sarah echoed, glancing at him curiously. "He who?"

"Well I don't know if it's a "he" exactly," Toby looked at the ground sheepishly, "but it's really cool!"

Sarah blinking, tipping her head to the side in confusion as Toby skipped merrily out of her room. As she leaned down to rummage through her suitcase for the snowpants she always brought with her, just in case, she heard the sound of her little brother hurriedly throwing open his closet door, the telltale rustle as he found his snowsuit...

She smiled to herself as she pulled out a simple, yet cozy, pair of black snowpants, along with her fur-lined, green boots that one of her friends had gotten her for Christmas after she had moved up to Maine without practically any snow gear. Which, of course, was probably the stupidest thing she could have done. Wearing clothes they had gotten for her reminded her of them. She liked to think of all of them, as they were great people who made her feel welcome in a place so far away from her family.

She pulled her sleeping top over head head in exchange for a thick green sweater to match her boots. As she pulled her snowsuit on over her jeans, she heard Toby's excited giggles, and again thought about what he had to show her. She shrugged as she pulled the shoulder straps over her shoulders and pulled a green set of hat and gloves out of her bag. Toby was seven years old. She was sure it was nothing more than a rabbit or maybe even a deer. Worst case scenario would be her little brother making friends with some sort of nocturnal homeless person. Sarah frowned at the thought of Toby sitting in front of a dingy old man on a bench, trying to make friends in the early hours of the morning. It was something she could see him doing.

_Well_, she thought, cramming her hat over her ears and tugging her gloves over her hands, _we're about to find out, aren't we, girl?_

_**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**_

Toby bounded a few paces of where Sarah walked with her hands shoved into her coat pockets. It wasn't very windy, but the air was just...well, downright freezing, if she was quite honest with herself. It managed to seep in through every worn spot in her sweater, hat, and knitted gloves, making her skin feel as if it were on fire. It wasn't snowing, thank God, but there was still about a foot of snow everywhere she looked from the storm that had arrived just after she did the previous night. The roads were the only things that were cleared, and she wished Toby would have let her drive. But he had wanted to walk instead.

Glancing around, Sarah could see why he wanted to walk instead of sit in her cramped little car, which was terrible in the snow anyways. She had forgotten how beautiful her neighborhood looked after a snowstorm. Tiny icicles hung from tree branches, glistening in the light from the coming dawn. Her street looked like a little postcard village, snow coating the roofs of every home,drifted up against the walls. Every now and then, they would pass a house that would have a gentle glow coming from one of the windows and a plume of smoke curling out of the chimney. She would shiver slightly and stalk sourly by these houses, wishing she could be sitting in front of a fire right now, but then Toby would turn around and give her a cheery, innocent smile, which would set her mood soaring again.

Out of nowhere, a white ball of slushy, cold snow hit her in the side of the head. She shrieked as it fell apart immediately, some of it dripping down the neck of her sweater and onto the sensitive skin of her throat. She glared at the offender, who was laughing at her as he balled up another wad of snow. When Toby straightened up, he caught her furious gaze and stuck his tongue out tauntingly.

"What?" he asked, tossing the snowball up and down. Sarah followed it was suspicious eyes. "We're in the park, after all. And you said we'd have a snowball fight in the park."

Sarah looked around in surprise. She hadn't noticed they had come so far already. She had been too busy with reacquainting herself with her old home. But as she took in her surroundings, she realized they were, indeed, in the park. Her green eyes flicked from one spot to the next, the lake she had sat by, reciting her lines with Merlin snoozing at her side; the bridge whose ledge she had perched on, staring out at the sunset. This place held, and probably always would, some of her most cherished times.

She was rewarded for her inattentiveness when Toby flung another snowball at her, larger than the last. Thankfully, it missed her, instead exploding all over a tree about an inch away from her head. However, it was enough to startle her out of her thoughts, and she gave Toby another menacing glare.

"Geeze, is it too late to go back on the bargain?" he whined, folding his arms. "You're no fun; it's like throwing snowballs at a sitting duck."

"We'll see about that," Sarah growled playfully, leaning down to scoop up her first snowball. Toby squealed and sprinted away. Though he was normally a fairly fast runner, his bulky snowsuit slowed him up considerably, making him look more like a discoloured penguin than anything else. Sarah had to laugh at his plight before she launched her missile, which sailed swiftly through the December air before it landed -_splat_- right between Toby's shoulders. Right on target.

This continued for a good hour; they played variations of hide-and-go-seek, where when one of them was found, they got nailed with a barrage of snowballs. They even attempted to build a snowman, but the snow wasn't really sticking together right, and all of their attempts failed miserably. Mostly, however, it was all out war between brother and sister, as they used trees, bushes, and benches for their walls, peeking their heads out carefully to look for the enemy.

Finally, Sarah, whose braid was almost completely undone by now, the messy, damp hair falling in clumped tendrils down her back, raised her hands in surrender. But before she could call out the word, Toby shot out of his hiding place like a bullet from a gun, his eyes blazing with excitement. He grabbed her and spun her about- well, most of the spinning was done on her part. But he guided her until she was facing the opposite direction, staring at the park entrance.

"There!" he whispered excitedly. "See him? In the trees?"

Sarah scanned the tree line, trying to remain calm. But how could she not stop that little hitch in her breath, or the sudden increase of her heart rate? This was wrong. If Toby was talking about what she _thought_ he was talking about, there was a good chance that both of them were in an interesting predicament. She just hoped Toby had adopted some squirrel that he could identify.

But, of course, she was not that lucky.

Perched in the lower branches of a nearby tree sat an owl. It had wide black eyes set like jewels in its white face. The white feathers continued down it's stomach, flecked with brown here and there. It's back was a beautiful buff colour, the sleek, tawny feathers laid flat and clean. But the most interesting thing about this barn owl, was that it was staring right at them with its dark eyes. Eyes that were too intelligent for a normal animal.

It had to be him. He was here, and had showed himself to Toby, allowed Toby to befriend him.

Sarah felt like she was going to faint.

* * *

Well, this story was inspired by the song "Dreaming" by OMD. It sort of reminded me of Sarah/Jareth. And the style is so upbeat, I just love it. Anyways, yes, we're off to a rather boring and predictable start, but I'll make it better, I promise. This is my first Labyrinth fic, so they may be slightly OOC. And I looked up some fashion trends in the 1990s (it's currently 1992 right now in this story), and in the early 90s, according to wikipedia, naval piercings were all the rage. So I figured rebellious Sarah would get one, just to piss Karen off xD

Please leave feedback, and if you didn't like it, please play nice and elaborate, don't just say it sucked.

-Scourge-chan


	2. I'd Understand So Well

Come on, now, 97 hits and 3 reviews? I really don't want to blackmail anyone into reviewing, but at least leave a tiny bit a feedback before going on your way, it only takes a few seconds to say "I loved it" or "I hated it". Reviews make me write faster )

* * *

Sarah walked bristly along the snow-covered sidewalks, not daring to look to her left, right, behind her, or even straight ahead. She kept her eyes firmly on the ground, where they were not in danger of seeing anything slightly out of the ordinary. Beside her, however, Toby kept looking over his shoulder and letting out a squeal of barely-suppressed excitement. He did not elaborate, and Sarah did not ask.

Sarah had come close to actually passing out in the park. She hadn't passed out in a long time. In fact, the only time she could actually remember fainting was when she ate that damn peach in the Underground. It had been like Snow White; the wicked King fed the fair child a poisoned peach, but instead of being awakened by true love's kiss, she had had to throw a chair through a bubble. How intensely romantic. She hadn't eaten peaches since that night. Thank you, Jareth.

It had taken a lot of courage to walk by that tree, knowing he was sitting above her, perfectly able to attack them, but she had done it. She had done it without running, something she had been sorely tempted to do. But she didn't want to appear to be that much of a coward. No doubt he already knew from her hasty retreat from the park. But she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her run from him. Never.

She turned abruptly and walked up the driveway, intent on keeping her eyes on the garage door. Toby, unfortunately, had other plans.

"Sarah," he whispered urgently. She ignored him. Almost there.

The boy grabbed her sleeve and stopped walking. "Sarah," he said, louder this time. To her surprise, she actually stopped and turned to look at him.

"Yes, Toby?" she asked, keeping her voice as calm as she could. She would just keep eye contact with him. She wouldn't look into the trees, wouldn't glance around at the sky or inspect any rooftops too closely. She would just look at Toby, ask what he wanted, and then turn and go into the house. God, what a coward she had become.

"He's followed us home," he said, his excitement bleeding out from his eyes and into his voice. "He's never done that before, Sarah! Well, he's never really followed me _home_, as I told you, I only see him when I walked through the park to school. He follows me through the park and then stops before it ends. He's like a guardian angel."

Sarah snorted. _Guardian angel? _Jareth was definitely up to something, no doubt, but he was definitely not playing angel to her younger brother. It just wasn't his type. If he were an angel...he would definitely be something along the lines of "Angel of Chaos", or something dramatic and frightening like that. That was his area of expertise. But Jareth could never be any type of angel. He was too much of a demon for such a title.

Sarah sighed, and followed Toby's line of vision up to one of the trees that grew in front of their house. Perched regally on a branch was the barn owl, still staring at them with it's black eyes. Sarah couldn't really tell if it was staring more at her or Toby. She stepped slowly in front of her brother, shielding him from Jareth's gaze. While his gaze, even in owl form, still had the power to send shivers of fear down her spine, she didn't want him getting any bright ideas where Toby was concerned.

"It's just an owl, Sarah," Toby protested as he tried to peer around from behind her. Sarah reached behind her and put a restraining hand on his shoulder, and he stopped moving.

"Things are not always what they seem," she said quietly, more to herself than to Toby. The owl made a light rasping noise, and it took Sarah a moment to realize he was laughing at her! Something inside of her burst, and her eyes narrowed in anger. The King seemed to sense her change of emotion, and stopped making the noise. But the damage was already done.

Sarah eyed her yard for any source of ammunition. She didn't want a pathetic ball of melted ice and dirt. That wouldn't do. She wanted to cause pain, to knock him senseless and out of that tree. Her eyes landed on the decorative stones that lined the driveway. Her dad and Karen had put them in sometime after she had graduated from high school. She stooped down, still keeping a firm grip on Toby all the same, and scooped up a nice-sized rock about the size of a golfball with sharp edges.

The owl seemed to sense what was coming, and lifted his wings. But before he could take flight, Sarah hurled the stone at him with everything she had. It had been a 'Hail Mary' throw, but her primitive weapon found its mark nonetheless.

The stone struck Jareth full in the face. With a squawk of pain, he teetered backwards, and Sarah leaned forward. She wanted to be the one to stand above him and look down this time. She wanted to be the smug one, the sneering one. She wanted to give him a taste of what he had given her six years ago. To her sheer disappointment, however, he righted himself at the last moment a flew off without a backward glance. A few feathers floated slowly from the tree, and Toby reached out and grabbed one in his small fist.

"What'dya do that for?" he asked, stomping his foot. "Now he'll never come back."

"Owls are birds of prey, Toby," she muttered, thinking up some bogus explanation as quickly as possible. Of course he wouldn't remember that night, he had only been a year old. "They're dangerous."

Toby frowned, and then brushed by her and stomped up the porch steps, vanishing into the house. As Sarah stared at the vacated branch where the King had just perched, she saw something drip from the bark. She glanced down at the snow underneath the tree, and noticed it was peppered with blood. She sighed, regretting her actions already. Being cruel to him didn't make her any better of a person. But still...how long had he been following Toby around like this? She clenched her hands into fists, her nails digging into her palms as she imagined Toby, snuggled safe in bed at night, with a huge barn owl sitting outside of his window, staring at him with a haughty expression.

_**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**_

By the time Sarah finally got around to going inside, Toby was already undressed, sitting at the kitchen table with a mug of hot chocolate. He glowered at her for a moment, and then turned his attention back to his drink. Sarah had to stifle a laugh; it was hard to be afraid of a glaring seven year old who had a chocolate mustache.

The girl went to the front closet and shrugged off her dripping coat. Reaching inside, she pulled out a hanger, hung her coat on it, and hunt it up on the rack. Next came her snowpants, which she was grateful to be out of; the snow always found some way of getting into her socks, and she couldn't exactly reach into her shoes without taking off the bulky things. She threw those carelessly into the closet on top of Toby's. She smirked, and her imagination did a perfect imitation of Karen, scolding her that they would never dry in such a pile.

As she made to remove her sweater to walk around in the t-shirt she had decided to put on underneath it, Karen walked in, looking quite tired and grumpy.

"Hello, Sarah," she said stiffly. Sarah rolled her eyes. She had thought that by taking better care of Toby without complaints, Karen would eventually warm up to her and act like her mother. Unfortunately, the stepmother had decided Sarah was only being nice because she wanted something. So she had never really broken the ice there. It was apparent that Karen was stuck like glue to the 'dark side', and Sarah just wasn't up to wasting her energy and time trying to convince her otherwise.

"Sarah!" The irritating squeal drew Sarah out of her thoughts. She realized with a pang of dismay that when she had gone to pull her sweater of her head, her t-shirt had stuck to it, revealing her stomach and her piercing. She could almost feel the anger rolling off of Karen in fierce, hostile waves.

Damn it.

"Uh, I'm gonna go get Dad," Toby muttered, and then sprinted out of the kitchen.

_Little coward, _Sarah thought irritably, wrenching her sweater over her head and then jerking her shirt down. She raised her head to meet Karen's furious gaze. Glaring right back, Sarah placed her hands on her hips and widened her stance into a pose of absolute defiance.

"I _told_ you not to get _that_ done," Karen snarled, crossing her arms.

Sarah resisted the urge to stomp her foot. "Jesus Christ, Karen, I'm twenty years old!" she spat back at her. "I have every right to do whatever the hell I want!"

If looks could kill, Sarah was sure she would be nibbling the roots of daisies right about now as Karen drew herself up to her full height. Tension crackled off of the pair like lightning as she stared at Sarah with cold eyes. "Don't talk to me like that in _my_ house," she said slowly, her voice soft. Sarah had acknowledged it as the 'death voice' when she had been younger, because she knew whenever it was used, someone was in trouble. A lot of trouble.

"When people come to stay in my home, I expect them to follow my rules. If you have to be defiant and childish at every command I give you, then so be it. You can find somewhere else to stay for the remainder of your break."

Sarah bristled in fury. She couldn't believe she was getting thrown out of a house that was technically her own home for something so trivial as a naval piercing! Her hands were balled into fists again, her nails digging so deep into her palms that they began to bleed slightly. As her blood began to fall, it flecked on the white, tile floor of the spotless kitchen. It reminded her of the owl.

"I cannot believe you're being such a bitch," Sarah growled softly. Karen's eyes widened, and Sarah mentally cursed herself. She hadn't actually meant to say that particular thought out loud. Boy, was she really in for it now. In an attempt to stave off Karen from stabbing her with any knives -which, incidentally, where neatly arranged about a foot from her stepmother's hands- she shrugged.

"Fine, Karen," she sighed, brushing past the middle-aged woman. She poured herself a cup of hot chocolate and turned to creep silently up the stairs. The blond woman followed her out with narrowed eyes. "I'll just go upstairs and pack, 'kay? Then you don't have to worry about my bad influence on your precious son."

Sarah flounced gracefully up the stairs without a backward glance, cupping the mug of chocolate in her hands, careful not to spill any of the brown liquid on the white carpet. She didn't need to give Karen yet another ridiculous reason to hate her. She walked quietly past Toby's room; her younger brother was sitting up his bed with his pillow jammed over his head, and Sarah felt bad for frightening him. She decided to take a small detour into the room, closing the door behind her.

Toby peeked out from the blue pillow with a curious expression at the noise, and then sat up, hugging the pillow to his chest. For the first time, Sarah noticed tears were streaming down his cheeks. Feeling the corners of her own eyes begin to prickle at her little brother's distress, she sat down on the bed and gathered him in her arms comfortingly.

"Is Mom making you go away?" he sniffed, his voice raspy from crying.

"Yeah. But I'll be fine."

Her brother glanced up at her with begging eyes. "B-but what about me?" he stammered, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "I've been waiting f-for forever to see you, and now you have to go away again."

Sarah smiled and tugged a strand of his strawberry blond hair teasingly. "I can always meet you at the park if you can convince Dad to drop you off there," she said kindly, patting his head. "Besides, Karen banned me from the house. She didn't say anything about me not being able to see you."

Toby's face broke into a grin. "Really?"

"Really," Sarah promised, winking at him. Then, she remembered something. "Toby, when did you notice that Ja – that owl was following you?"

He shrugged. "I don't know...September, maybe? I first noticed him when I was walking to school. He'd always fly ahead in the morning, right above me. But he never, ever followed me home, and I never even saw him after school. But, I mean, he's an owl, right? They don't like the sun."

_Either that or a certain owl has a kingdom to run during the day, _Sarah thought irritably. She nodded at Toby and messed up his hair. He gave an indignant yell, and swatted her arm away. Sarah reluctantly stood up from the bed, tweaking Toby's ear affectionately as she did so.

"I have to go pack, squirt."

His face fell, and he hugged her, sobbing into her t-shirt again. "I like it when you're here, Sarah," he muttered. "You actually do things with me." Sarah felt a flash of fury at his words. Didn't his parent's have any time for him in the slightest? She pried his arms from around her midriff and pulled away from him gently.

"I'll definitely see you at Christmas, Toby."

"Promise?"

"Nothing could keep me away."

With that, Sarah turned away, picked up her now-cold hot chocolate from where she had set it on Toby's night table, and ducked sullenly out of his room.

_Honestly! _She thought angrily as she stalked down the hallway, _he's their only son. Technically, he's Karen's only child! How can they not pay attention to him, how can they not want to do things with him? He's only a child. He needs attention. _For goodness sake, if she had known this was how Toby's life was going to turn out, maybe she would have just left him with Jareth and the goblins! _At least he would have had fun_, she reasoned as she pushed open her door. She set her mug on the vanity, flicked on the light, and promptly froze.

_Speak of the wolf and it is at the door. _

She was glad she had set down her drink, or else she would have surely stained the floor.

But hey, she had to hand it to herself; at least she hadn't screamed.

Wait...why wasn't she screaming yet? It seemed like a perfectly legitimate thing to do.

Sprawled out on her sheets was a man...no...this _thing_ was too perfect, too beautiful to be human. His long-fingered hands, encased in fine black leather, were clasped carelessly behind his head, which was situated at an elevated position on top of her pillows. He had flyaway blond hair that spilled about his angular face like a halo. His poet shirt was unbuttoned halfway, revealing a smooth, sculptured chest. The shirt stopped about mid-thigh, where tight gray breeches could been briefly seen before vanishing into a pair of knee-high boots. To complete the image, a riding crop was propped innocently on the wall by the head of her bed.

Sarah finally forced herself to glance into his eyes. His mismatched orbs stared challengingly back at her, one a pale blue, and the other a dark brown. They were further accentuated by his sweeping brows that were currently raised tauntingly. Her attention was drawn to the gash on the left side of his face, and she felt her face flush with embarrassment. She really shouldn't have lost her temper like that.

Jareth removed one of his hands from behind his head and carefully touched his wound. He smiled at Sarah, as a friend would after being gone for a very long time.

"I see you remember me, Sarah Williams."

* * *

"Speak of the wolf and it is at the door" is the English translation of how Bulgarians say "Speak of the Devil and he shall appear". I chose this version to put in the story instead of the more common one because I see Jareth as more of a wolf, stalking innocent 20-year-old college students, rather than a devil. Sure, he may have some evil characteristics, but he's not ALL bad, now is he?

Hey, nearly 3,000 words and 6 pages in Microsoftword. I need some reviews, dammit :)

**_Chapter 3 Preview:_**

_"This minor scratch is nothing compared to what I could do to you," he threatened, shaking her slightly to emphasize his words._

_"Nothing, nothing, tra la la?" She sneered back before she could stop herself._


	3. But Ever Since I Met You, Child

_**Well, I was sick all last week and blowing off a poetry analysis I was supposed to be doing...When I finally got around to doing it, I had a certain lack of creativity, and I thought "Maybe if I do some free writing, it'll help me get un-stuck". Now, what could I write about? And suddenly, I remembered this story. Since I hadn't updated in so long, I decided to give a shot at continuing it.**_

Sarah stared numbly at the Goblin King, who looked so out of place against her eggshell-blue bedspread in his regal attire. She shouldn't have been all too surprised, really, seeing as how he wasn't one for actually knocking, but to see him stretched out on her bed, which was so small his feet hung off the edge, was rather startling. If anything, she would have imagined him leaning against her windowsill, or perched in the tree outside her room, still in owl form.

"Why are you in my room?" She asked, willing her voice not to shake. The question sounded trivial to her own ears, but it was the only thing she could think of to say. It wasn't everyday a girl walked into her room in to see a Goblin King reclining comfortably on her bed.

"It is cold outside," he responded in a clipped, flat tone. "Contrary to what mortal believers think, the Fae race do respond to their climates." His voice still carried that strange accent, perhaps even more pronounced now than it was five years ago. Was that even possible?

Sarah narrowed her eyes inquisitively. "Believers?"

Jareth gave her a lopsided grin that gave him the appearance of an overgrown, mischievous schoolboy. "Mortals who believe, and rightfully so, in the existence of Fae, as well as other magical beings." His grin became a smirk. "Did you still believe in such things before you came into your room just now, Sarah?"

Sarah allowed the corners of her lips to turn upward slightly as she stared at his marred cheek. "Obviously," she said simply, folding her arms over her chest.

The smirk melted from Jareth's face, and it was replaced with a fierce scowl. "You will regret that brash stunt, little girl," he snarled.

"Really?" Sarah taunted, pretending to look crestfallen, "I got such amusement from it." Her remorse for causing him pain had evaporated at his remarks.

Faster than any human could ever move, Jareth was gone from her bed and standing directly in front of her. The only noise that accompanied his movement was a slight creaking of the mattress. Sarah found her nose just barely touching the collar of his shirt, and she gasped in surprise, jumping back from him. But not before she caught his scent. It barely clung to him, but was still there. He smelled fresh and alive, like a forest after a thunderstorm.

Flustered, Sarah looked up into his angry face, trying to pass off her fright as irritation. She held up her hands and made to push him back. Jareth's gloved ones shot up and wrapped tightly around her wrists before she could touch him. She tried to wrench them out of his grasp, but his fists only tightened. Pain shot up Sarah's arms, but she set her jaw stubbornly, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing he was hurting her.

"This minor _scratch _is nothing compared to what I could do to you," he threatened, shaking her slightly to emphasize his words.

"Nothing, nothing, tra la la?" She sneered back before she could stop herself. The King stiffened visibly, his face hardening at his own words being used against him. He let go of her suddenly, causing her to stagger at the absence of his hands, which, before then, she hadn't noticed were practically lifting her off the ground.

"You seem to be fairly confident for someone who ran from me earlier this morning," he growled.

"I did not run," Sarah protested angrily, placing her hands on her hips.

"You might as well have done," he jeered. "I could practically smell your fear. Not that I need to. Your eyes have always betrayed you."

"What I feel when I'm around you is none of your concern, Goblin King," Sarah snapped. She cast around for another thing to ask, something he could not use to attack her personally. "Do you mind telling me how you got in here in the first place?"

His eyes widened. "Your window was open. It was rather easy."

That caught Sarah off guard. "What?"

Jareth smirked. "Your window. That transparent square in the wall that allows you to see out-"

"I know what a window is!"

His smirk grew wider. "Your clueless expression told me otherwise."

Sarah let the jibe at her intelligence go for now. Her hand came up over her face, and she tapped her nose thoughtfully with the tip of her index finger. In her minds eye, she was replaying what she had done before leaving that morning...She had gotten dressed, unpacked a few more of her things and set them on her vanity, and then rushed down to stop Toby from going out the door before she did. She couldn't remember opening a window.

She turned away from him, gathering up her various trinkets she had brought with her, throwing them pell-mell into her suitcase. "If you don't mind, I don't really have the time for you right now. I'm packing."

"So I noticed," Jareth responded coolly. "Going somewhere?"

"My stepmother's thrown me out of the house."

The Fae leaned forward, hands clasped behind his back. "Ah! Which leaves me to remember why I'm here in the first place. I couldn't help but overhear your little argument-"

"Bet you could," Sarah muttered under her breath. Jareth swept on as if he hadn't heard her.

"-and I have a proposition for you."

Sarah looked over her shoulder at him warily, half expecting him to be holding a crystal out to her.

_I have brought you a gift..._

Instead, she found herself glaring at the King, who was leaning towards her with an odd look Sarah couldn't quite put her finger on, his face split in half with a wide grin. For a moment, Sarah got a mental image of the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland. Jareth certainly fit the description, disappearing and reappearing at will, vexing her with his confusing vocabulary and logic, constantly leering.

Sarah watched him suspiciously, and when he made no movement, she sat down on the floor, stretching her legs out in front of her and leaning back on her elbows. There was no way she was sitting on the bed, not after she'd walked in to see him sprawled out all over it. She'd give the sheets a good wash first. For some reason, however, she doubted she'd ever get his smell off. As she glanced up at him, she realized he was watching her rather closely, and she ducked her head in embarrassment.

"Let's hear it, then," she prompted him nervously.

He snorted. "Such impatience." At Sarah's glare, he held up his hands. "Very well." His expression became devious, and something dark flitted across his eyes. It made Sarah want to hide in the closet, crawl under the bed, whatever. Anything to get rid of that look.

"Stay with me."

It was not a question, but nor did it have the firmness of a command. If anything, it was a mere statement, as if Jareth had suddenly recited a history fact in front of a classroom of gum-chewing, glassy-eyed students. It didn't have an underlaying threat, but still, the gleam remained in his mismatched eyes. Though his tone did not carry any hint of suggestiveness, Sarah hit the roof.

"What?" she half-shrieked.

"Unless you want your pleasant stepmother to throw you in a...what do you call it? a psych-ward? then I suggest you keep your voice down, my dear," he said silkily.

Sarah leaped to her feet swiftly. "Don't call me that," she hissed, flexing her hands, itching to close them around his throat. "I wouldn't stay with you if you were the last man in the world!"

Jareth smiled wryly. "Well then, Princess, it's a good thing I'm not from this world."

"You know what I meant."

He heaved an exaggerated sigh. "Here you go again, saying words while meaning something entirely different."

Biting her lip, Sarah turned on her heel and began packing again. "My answer is no, Goblin King," she said, her voice shaking. She did not turn to face him. "Go find some other girl to seduce."

She heard his footsteps, and felt his gloved hand come down on her should. She shivered slightly, unable to help it. His hands were so cold, their chill permeated his leather gloves, her shirt, and struck her skin, digging in like daggers. Chills ran up and down her spine. She hated the cold.

"But I want to seduce _you_."

Sarah felt her face flush at his forwardness. She straightened up again, and spun about, her hair whirling with her. As she came face-to-face with him, she drew her hand back, fully prepared to slap that arrogant smirk off of his face. Her hand descended, bearing the load of all of her anger towards him, her stepmother. She decided to throw in her anatomy professor as well. Why the hell not?

Their was a loud cracking noise as her hand smacked the palm of his gloved hand, which had come up smoothly and gracefully to protect his face. The moment her hand was fully rested upon his, his fingers snapped shut like a steel trap. Her knuckles ground together, popping and cracking. Sarah couldn't hold it in this time, and let out a yelp of pain as his mercilessly tight grip.

"Such a pity," he said quietly, smirking at her, "Toby will be disappointed his big sister will be breaking her promise."

Sarah's other hand came up and curled around his closed fist, trying to break his grip on her. "I'll sleep in my damn car if I have to."

Jareth's eyes flashed. "Language, girl," he chided.

"I already have two mothers, Goblin King. I don't need you as well."

As she jerked back, he let her hand go at the same time. Sarah staggered backwards, tripping over her suitcase and landing in an ungraceful heap on her floor. She glared up at him as she sat up, rubbing her back and wincing. His lips kept twitching, as if he were fighting the urge to laugh. Sarah snorted. She'd give him something to laugh about...she just had to figure out what.

He walked to her and extended his hand. Sarah ignored it; her fingers were still throbbing. His lips thinned at her defiance, but he did not comment. She brushed past him to check out what the weather was like outside, blanching when she saw it was pouring rain. She really was not looking forward to driving in that mess.

She turned to tell the Goblin King to get lost, but the words died in her throat. The place where he had been standing was now empty. She frowned, annoyed at his sudden departure, but not entirely surprised.

As she finished packing her clothes and zipped up her suitcase, something out of ordinary caught her eye near her bed. The first thing she thought of was goblins, and she grabbed one of her shoes and whirled on the intruding creature.

Jareth's leather riding crop was still propped against her wall. Sarah lowered her shoe slowly, unsure of whether this was supposed to be some sick trick or if he had just forgotten it before his hasty retreat out of her room. She stood there for a few moments, and when she was convinced nothing was going to pop out at her, screaming "Boo!", she walked over to the possession he had left behind. Hesitantly, she reached out and grasped it.

The handle was quite warm, which surprised her, seeing as how his hands had been so cold. She picked it up easily and twisted it experimentally in the light, trying to see whether or not any of Jareth's glitter and magic rubbed off on it in any way. As she flicked it this way and that, she saw no difference in the appearance of the crop, and she shrugged. Perhaps the King liked to keep something normal around, so it could balance out the rest of his oddness.

Sarah considered leaving it propped up against the wall, since, after all, she had no use for it, and didn't want some over-dramatic Goblin King tracking her down over a missing item. But, then again, if she left it here, Karen would probably either throw it out or toss it in the attic with the rest of the junk. Sarah pursed her lips. She could have an angry Goblin King come after her, demanding it back, and she could hand it over without fuss, or she could have an angry Goblin King come after her, demanding it back, and her having to tell him her psycho stepmother had thrown it out. She laughed softly; it would almost be worth it to see the look on his face. Or, better yet...maybe he would kill Karen for her.

_That would certainly be nice, _Sarah thought darkly as she tucked the crop safely into her bag.

_**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**_

It took Sarah a long time to pack the rest of her things; even though she had only been at the Williams' residence for barely a day, somehow many of her possessions had found their way into the most unlikely places. Like under the kitchen sink, for example. As she tracked them down relentlessly, she kept seeing tiny shapes out of the corner of her eyes, and fought the urge to kick something. She hadn't seen goblins in five years, and now they were back again, scattering her things all over the place.

By the time Sarah had everything in order, packed the car, and said her goodbyes (mostly to Toby, as her father was still at work), it was late afternoon. Luckily for her, it had stopped raining, and the sky was merely overcast. As she walked out the door, she heard Karen flipping through the stations. Her stepmother stopped briefly on the weather channel, and a man's voice could be heard warning citizens about icy roads.

Sarah hopped into her car as quickly as she could. The wind was blowing into her face, bringing little pieces of ice with it, stinging her eyes and cheeks. She slammed the door and turned up the heat full blast. Shivering, she threw the gears into reverse and backed out of the driveway.

She had not been driving long when she came to a stop sign. She stepped on the brake, and let out a surprised shout when, instead of stopping as it should have, her tires locked and her car slid completely through the intersection.

Her hands were gripping the wheel tightly now, her breath coming in sharp pants. Sure it had snowed plenty in Maine before she had come home, but the roads were never so slick. Frowning, she shrugged and chalked it up to the bad luck she had been having all day. She had been thrown out of her own house by her stepmother, had to tell Toby goodbye, and the cherry on top had been, of course, walking into her bedroom to see an unchanged Goblin King on her sheets.

_What business does he have coming back here anyways? _She thought furiously as she eased her foot down on the gas pedal. Her car edged slowly forward, and Sarah, comforted by the lack of sliding, sped up until she was going the speed limit. _What the hell does he think he's doing, following Toby to school, and then having the ba – the nerve to sneak into MY bedroom, claiming the window was open. _She snorted out loud at this. She hadn't opened any window this morning. She would have been crazy to do such a thing, considering the outrageous temperature outside.

She thought about something else he had said. _But I want to seduce you. _She bit the inside of her cheek nervously and shifted in her seat. That had really been the last thing she had expected him to say. She had thought he would sneer at her (_Seduce you, a mere slip of a girl? Preposterous!_), but he had surprised her instead with a single, six-letter-word sentence.

_I wonder why he left? He didn't even say goodbye, _she thought sarcastically. Yeah right.

Suddenly, something jumped in front of the car, and Sarah screamed, wrenching the wheel around in an attempt to swerve out of the thing's way. Everything was spinning, spinning, spiraling out of control. When the ground suddenly turned rocky, she knew she had left the road, and when suddenly everything was upside down and the windshield was shattered into thousands of little pieces, when she woke up later in a strange house, she would know that the car had completely flipped over.

Not far from the crash, a large deer watched with impassive black eyes. He pawed the cold ground and gave his great antlered head a shake before glancing up into a nearby tree, where a large owl sat amongst the branches. The met each other's eyes, and the deer bounded away gracefully. If anyone saw it, they would have never guessed that only a mere minute ago, it had almost become another carcass on the side of the road. The barn owl turned its eyes to the flipped car below him, and noiselessly took flight, spiraling down to the girl inside that needed to be rescued.

* * *

_**Oh my gosh, I'll bet reading that thing was like dry swallowing a huge pill. I haven't written anything for fanfiction in such a long time, I'm quite rusty. For as long as this chapter took to come out, I'm rather disappointed with it...it didn't end with quite the effect I wanted it to, and if it's quite lacking in other aspects, I'm sorry for that. The Jareth/Sarah action was written about two or three months ago when I was still really into it, and the end (basically everything after the scenebreak) was written about thirty minutes ago :P I promise the next chapter will definitely be better.**_

_**And now, to answer some things brought up in reviews:**_

_**comedychik84: Dude, if my mom ever found out I got a naval piercing, she would flip out. No matter how old I was. Some parents are just like that, I guess, but I think Karen's just a psycho in this situation.**_

_**mouse: Really? I've read several stories in which Karen actually turns out to be a very good step-mother to Sarah, and in some cases is even a close friend of Sarah's, but maybe we just read different genres, and one seems to like a good!Karen better than evil!Karen.**_

_**B-Czar: Thank you for pointing that out, I did change it around. Honestly, I think I was just trying to find some way to fit "Nothing, tra la la?" in there.**_

_**Oh yeah -cough- don't forget to tell me how I did through REVIEWING! C'mon, it takes like twenty seconds! Please? It'll make my day better!  
**_


	4. You've Made My Life Such Hell

_**Yeah, yeah, you all know the drill...I don't own the Labyrinth in any way, shape or form. If I did, I'd be Underground, entertaining myself with a certain Goblin King -winkwink-**_

_**Mmk, this is mostly a filler chapter, mostly explains why Jareth suddenly disappeared, why Sarah's stuff was turning up in weird places, etc. etc. I like it, though. It was fun to write :) Enjoy!  
**_

* * *

Sunlight pierced her eyelids, making her see red behind closed eyes. Sarah groaned and turned her head away, relaxing as everything went dark once again. Wait...her and Julia's dorm room window had a romantic view of a brick wall, not the eastern sky. And if all beds were as soft as this one, she was sure as hell more students would think it was worth the room and board fee.

"_I told you not to get that done"..."Sarah, you actually do things with me"..."Your window was open"...Is that a _deer _in the road?! Brake, _brake, BRAKE!

"You know, my dear, stealing is a crime punishable by law in the Underground."

Sarah's eyes flew open at that soft, smug voice that could belong to no man.

Jareth was sitting at a large oak desk, polished to a such a shine, that Sarah probably could have seen her reflection in it if she wanted to. The king was sitting in a high-backed wooden chair in front of his desk, his feet propped up on the large stacks of official-looking documents and papers, not seeming to care that water dripping off his knee-high boots were staining them.

"Your papers," she rasped, wincing at how terrible she sounded. "You're destroying them."

He cast them a bored glance before setting his feet on the ground. With a wave of one of his gloved hands, the papers rearranged themselves before Sarah's eyes and settled into a neat pile, as fresh and clean-looking as if he had just written on them a few minutes before. She rolled her eyes dramatically. _What a show off._

"So, precious thing, how are we feeling today?"

Sarah thought about it for a moment, chewing the inside of her cheek thoughtfully. In all truth, she was feeling fine, which worried her. She shouldn't be feeling fine after driving her car off the road and rolling it. She remembered the windshield shattering and shivered, automatically glancing down at her arms, expecting to see hundreds of little cuts crisscrossing her pale skin.

Instead, to her great surprise, the skin was smooth and unmarred. Her mouth slightly open, she let the fingers of her other hand run up and down her arm, expecting to feel what her eyes apparently could not see. But all she felt was skin, no bumps or jagged edges, just smooth, normal skin. She glanced up at him in confusion.

"But...my car...?"

Jareth leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped together between his legs, studying her with his mismatched eyes. "Yes, your car did happen to run into a rather slick patch of ice, and yes, it did flip over numerous times. However," he flicked his wrist and a clear crystal appeared at his fingertips, "you seem to underestimate a Fae's power." At the sight of the crystal, Sarah felt her eyes widen, and she instinctively leaned back. The Goblin King laughed at her reaction. "Really, Sarah, if I had wanted you dead, I would have left you in what remained of your car."

He leaned back, tossing the crystal orb from one hand to the other. Sarah followed it with mistrusting eyes. Jareth's eyes, however, were on her.

_**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**_

He had to admit, he was impressed.

When she had first showed signs of waking, he had mentally braced himself for the screams of anger and maybe even fear, shrill demands of where Toby was, demands to know where _she_ was, why she woke up in a strange bed, how he had known her car had crashed, and (he snickered to himself) who had changed her out of her mangled clothes and into the nightgown she now wore. Hopefully she wouldn't notice that. No matter how well they were getting along right now, if she found out he had seen her naked, well...it was a strange girl thing.

_Maybe she spent her anger with me in her room yesterday, and now she doesn't have anything left, _he thought dryly. _But I doubt it._

Her room...he had been so close to her, close enough to lean forward and touch her long black hair, close enough to brush his knuckles against her cool skin. But then, as the Goblin King, he did have a kingdom to run and challengers to welcome into his Labyrinth.

He mentally cursed the stupid 16 year-old boy who had wished away his little brother, who was only three. The boy had had the look of an arrogant athlete, the kind who strutted around the school with the cheerleaders falling at his feet and who somehow always got excused for cutting classes. He had gone without a wish-away for almost three months, and when one does surface, it had to be when he saw Sarah for the first time in six years. And it had to be some pig-headed prick.

"_Oh shit!" The boy exclaimed, jumping back several feet._

_Jareth snorted, crossing his arms over his chest in a dignified manner. "Might I recommend an improvement in vocabulary?"_

_The jock stood there, mouth hanging wide open. Then he glanced over his shoulder to the empty crib behind him, then to the little red book lying open on the ground beside it, and back up to the Goblin King's face. "I-I didn't know-"_

"_Yes, yes, Goblin Kings actually do exist," Jareth sighed impatiently. "And so do goblins, especially the type who steal little children from their undeserving siblings."_

_The boy's face paled considerably, and just as Jareth thought he was going to launch into some sob-story on how much he wanted his brother back and how sorry he was, the boy swore again._

"_What am I gonna tell Mom?" he turned around and hit the wall, cracking the plaster a bit. "Man, if she comes home and Matty isn't here...Damn, she'll be so fucking pissed...she might even pull me off the varsity basketball team again..."_

"_Three curse words in two seconds, little boy," Jareth sneered coldly. "When I said improve your vocabulary, that's not exactly what I meant."_

"_Yeah, yeah, what are you, my mother?" He snarled in return. "Listen, what do I have to do to get the stupid kid back, anyways? Run your little mouse maze?"_

_The Goblin King narrowed his eyes dangerously. _I'll show you mouse maze._ The corners of his lips curled upwards in an evil smirk. "If you want your baby brother back so you can stay on your little sports team, then this is what you have to do..."_

_In the corner of the room, two goblins were witnessing the whole experience. They exchanged frightened glances as they watched their king's expression go from annoyed to a look that was so evil, a name for it hasn't even been invented yet._

"_Why's the brat still standin' there?" One asked the other._

"_Search me, if King was lookin' at _me _that way, I'd be throwin' meself in the Bog o' Stench."_

_Upon hearing their whispered conversation, Jareth's smirk grew, if possible, even broader. He reached out and grabbed the boy's shoulder tightly. "Brace yourself, boy. You're in for the worst thirteen hours of your life."_

Jareth sighed, threading his gloved fingers through his hair, balancing the crystal in the palm of his other hand. The boy, Christoph, had not lasted long. He hadn't even gotten into the maze, and had had to content himself with watching that dwarf – Higgle, wasn't it? – relieve himself in the pond every so often before Jareth had returned to inform him his thirteen hours were up. So it was a frightened boy who was returned home to his family. No doubt some strange questions would be raised when his parents returned home to find their three-year-old missing. The King smirked cruelly. Oh well. Not his problem.

_His _thirteen hours, on the other hand, had been nothing less than exciting. Why should he have wasted his time watching the foolish boy lean against the outer wall, moaning in self-pity? No, it was Sarah he had watched in his crystals. He had grinned in amusement when she had reluctantly packed his riding crop in her already over-packed suitcase. He had noticed it was missing when he had gone to retrieve the challenger, but had not made too much of a fuss about it. He was a King, after all, and had dozens of crops at his disposal. But it was always nice to recover a lost item, as trivial as it was, and the item in question was currently resting against the edge of the desk.

He had watched her frustration mounting as she found things like hair clips and underwear (very lacy, very red underwear, he might add) in the most queer of locations, such as under the kitchen sink. Of course, it was his goblins that had been moving things about. As a Fae, he had a very heightened sense of atmosphere, and had felt the chill coming in the air. Freezing weather after rain had fallen usually resulted in ice, which did not mix well with the method of transportation Sarah's world had picked. In an attempt to keep her in the house as long as possible, he ordered the goblins to scatter her belongings, a task in which they took to quite enthusiastically. But, of course, Sarah had stubbornly sniffed out every last one of her missing items, thrown them in her suitcase, and loaded up her car. As soon as she had pulled out onto the road, Jareth was after her in owl form, gliding silent and unnoticed above her.

He knew if he showed himself to her, she would only panic and go faster, resulting in a crash, so that was out of the question. But he wasn't about to wait for her to get tired and stop on her own, either. As he was busy thinking of ways to get her to pull over, he saw a large deer not too far off ahead, pawing gently at the snow, searching for whatever grass remained that had not been killed off by the storm. He had sped ahead and spoken to it gently in Faerie language, trying to coax it out into the road with promises that it would not be harmed. The deer was reluctant, and had only just stepped out onto the asphalt when Sarah's car had come up, Using his magic, Jareth transported the deer to the other side of the road, but not before Sarah had seen him and swerved.

What the king had _not_ expected though was her car to flip over completely. After the deer was out of sight, he had flown down from his tree and ripped the metal clean in half, reaching in to retrieve his Sarah. Blood poured from her nose and mouth, and her entire body had been mangled with cuts from the shattered windows. But she was still breathing all right, and didn't seem to have broken anything major, though she seemed to have a concussion. But he could save her from that. He could save her from that.

"Hel-_lo_, have you done the world a favor and taken a sudden vow of silence?" Fingers were snapping in front of his face, and his hand automatically flew up to snatch the offending digits. Sarah was sitting up now, her feet swung over the edge of the bed. Her gown hung off of her shoulders by thin straps, and the neck was cut low. The way she was leaning towards him...well, let's just say he appreciated the view he had right now. Sarah saw where his eyes were, and, flushing in embarrassment, tugged the neck up furiously.

"Rude child," he admonished, releasing her hand slowly. She drew it quickly to her chest, cradling it in her other hand as if he had burned her. "Someone needs to teach you proper manners."

Her eyes narrowed, and he could see her back straightening stubbornly. "And I suppose you would be the one to teach me?" she growled, glaring at him. "What do you know about manners?"

Jareth cocked his head to one side. "You speak in a disdainful tone, Sarah. Do you think you know me? Do you think the short time you spent in my labyrinth was enough time to know me? To assume to know what I was like and what I know?"

Sarah at least had the sense to look slightly abashed, and she cast her eyes downward. Jareth's eyes softened in spite of himself. _Get a hold of yourself. _

Suddenly, she looked up, her eyes wide and her face paler than usual. "Are you going to throw me in an oubliette?"

He was confused at the sudden turn in conversation. "Why would I do that?"

"When I first woke up, you said something about stealing being punishable by law in the Underground..."

Jareth threw his head back and laughed. One minute, she was facing him square in the eye, snarling at him straight-backed and proud, and the next she was practically shrinking into the mattress, timid as a rabbit, asking whether or not she was about to be thrown in prison. Typical female.

"Technically, I suppose it wasn't what one would call stealing. It was more...safeguarding, I suppose." He reached out with one of his long arms and wrapped his fingers around the handle of the riding crop. "But if you insist on it being stealing, you did return the stolen item, so no harm done there." He slid one of his gloved hands up and down the length of the crop, almost affectionately. He looked up again to see Sarah frowning at him, her eyebrows pulled together in though, crinkling her forehead.

"What?"

"Your face," she muttered, touching her cheek. "The cut is gone."

Jareth rolled his eyes. "Really, Sarah, if I could heal all of your cuts and bruises, not to mention that concussion you had as well, what makes you think I can't heal a simple scratch on my face?"

Sarah blushed and mumbled something that might have been an apology, but he couldn't tell. Her next words were much clearer. "How did you even get that thing out of the car anyways? Why wasn't it smashed or broken?"

The Goblin King shrugged. "Your entire suitcase was relatively unharmed." He jerked his head in the direction of the wall opposite the bed. Sarah craned her neck around his form to see her suitcase sitting there, looking a bit worse for wear, but all in one piece, at least. She looked back at him, and for the first time, gave him a smile. Albeit, a very small smile, but a smile none the less.

"Thanks."

He grinned. "It was my pleasure, of course."

He could almost see her tensed muscles relaxing as she glanced about the room. In turn, he, too, began to relax a bit. He hadn't left her room yesterday with very high hopes, and yet her attitude today seemed more...soft. Maybe it took a near-death experience to do that. Or maybe it was the Fae medicine he had given her to heal her. Most likely the latter.

"So what do you use that thing for, anyways?" Her eyes had landed on the crop in his hand.

He smirked and slapped it against his thigh, the sound of it hitting the thin material of his breeches echoing through the room. "Would you like to find out?"

"_No!_"

* * *

_**Ohhh maaaann...if Jareth had asked me that question, I would have pounced on him, heehee. So yeah, as I said, this was mostly just a filler, not too much action going on, but maybe a little tiny bit of fluffiness. I know what you're thinking: "Sarah spends the whole chapter in his bed, and they don't even do anything?!" Heh heh, sorry :D It's too early to be writing anything steamy. Hey, it only took a few weeks this time instead of a few months! Aren't you all so proud of me?**_

_**REVIEW REPLIES:  
(I'd first like to say thanks to EVERYONE who reviews. You guys are what keeps my engine running -revs up- Vroom vroom! :) )  
**_

Asrayu: "Dreaming" is one of my favourite songs. It's just mindblowing!

Fabricated Revolution: Thanks! And, no, a riding crop could never be propped innocently on something...my mistake, heehee :)

ladyguenievre: Wows, that was the longest review I've ever received, and I write fanfiction on all sorts of different accounts. I took into consideration about Sarah's attitude towards Jareth. I can see your point, but...I mean, she defeats the labyrinth six years prior, but then suddenly comes back from college and finds out Toby's being stalked by a suspicious looking barn owl, and then she goes up into her room and the Goblin King is sprawled out all over her sheets, and she reacts badly (don't know what her freakin' problem is, as I've said, I would have pounced him) because she's just surprised. But I can see where you're coming from, and I tried to tone down her temper a little bit (though it's mostly from Jareth's Fae medicine/drugs he used on her, haha). As for Jareth being Fae...well, he's just too damn sexy to be human, and he certainly isn't a goblin. And I never really saw him as an elf, so Fae he is! Thank you for the amazing review, it totally made my day.

biggest'takahashi'fan: "Nothing tra la la" is easily one of THE best movie quotes I have ever heard. And made all the more wonderful by Bowie's sinfully tight pants :)

Blood of the Wolf: I was cracking up when I read your review. It made me smile.  
ME: Jareth, stop being such a self absorbed prick  
JARETH: WHY YOU!  
SARAH: Jareth! stop strangling the authoress!  
ME: -gasp- Thanks Sarah!

Alexandraya: Thanks for reviewing even though you hate reviewing. It means a lot to me you made the effort.

Luna: Calling it a naval piercing is just my weird way of speaking, and it kind of bled into my writing, I guess. I just don't like calling it a belly-button piercing. I say it weird :P So I just stick with naval, haha.

_**I LOVE YOU ALL! EVEN THOUGH WE'RE ONLY ON CHAPTER THREE, THANKS FOR AT LEAST HAVING THE COURAGE TO READ THIS FAR! :DDDDD**_

_**Read and review. Or Jareth will come and choke you next. Right Jareth? **_

_**JARETH: -menacing glare- Most certainly**_

_**-ScourgeChan  
**_


	5. With Every Day That Passes

**Haha, hey everyone. It's been a while, hasn't it? I was just sitting around, and I realized that I hadn't written a chapter for this story in almost a year. So I had to do something about that. Couldn't just let you all hang there with no purpose, could I? ;)**

* * *

Sarah perched regally on the windowsill of the chamber, enjoying the warm sunshine that burned away the remains of the morning mist and seemed to hold a certain air of magic and energy the the sun Above lacked. Since waking, she had realized they were Underground, and though the place did hold some interesting memories, such as a Fiery trying to pull her head off, it was not without it's many pleasant quirks. Jareth had been summoned away by one of the goblins (something along the lines of a chicken fight, whatever that was supposed to mean), and had yet to return. The corners of her mouth quirked up into a smirk. It had certainly sounded complicated.

After he had left, Sarah had immediately changed out of that thing Jareth had dared to call a nightgown, taking advantage of her clothes that were so close at hand. She now sat there in a pair of simple blue jeans and a red, baggy t-shirt that she had actually packed as a night-shirt, but with Jareth, the more concealing and loose her clothes were, the better off she would be. She had had no qualms about his current behaviour, for he seemed to be acting like a perfect gentleman, but she wasn't stupid. The Goblin King was sly and shrewd, and she knew he was probably just trying to soften her. For God's sake, he admitted to wanting to seduce her. If that didn't scream guilty, she didn't know what did.

Sarah's thoughts began to meander towards wishes of seeing Toby again, wondering when the next time she would ever be able to do so. With her luck, she was probably caught in some life debt that she would have to pay off one way or another. She certainly wouldn't put it past Jareth to do something of the sort. She supposed that she should be feeling outrageously upset and punching every single fragile thing in the room and causing chaos, but she wouldn't. She sure as hell wanted to be throwing a temper tantrum, but Jareth would just grin at her and 'tut-tut' in that condescending way of his, comparing her to a child. And she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of that. She would argue and rage at Karen, because Karen held no position of importance in her life. She had no information that could be used to gain an upper hand. Jareth, on the other hand, knew many things, probably more than he was letting on. She would have to deal with him very carefully, for even though he had seemed cordial, she was set on the fact that he remained the same person she had left all those years ago in the Labyrinth. Someone who was not afraid to use their enemy's fear and past against them. Someone cruel, terrible, and selfish.

A flit of black out of the corner of her eye drew her attention, and she jerked her head towards it, not wanting Jareth to catch her unawares. But it was nothing, just a single, black raven. She relaxed a little as she observed him, sitting alone on the corned of the windowsill, preening his glossy black feathers meticulously. Sarah suppressed an amused chuckle; if If she hadn't known that Jareth's form was a barn owl, she would have guessed from this bird's vanity that he was the Goblin King himself! As if hearing her thoughts, the raven suddenly ceased its grooming and watched her with a beady-eyed stare, ruffling its feathers slightly towards her with a loud squall. Sarah rolled her eyes and extended a friendly hand towards the creature, coaxing it with what she hoped was a peaceful tone.

"Come on, now, I promise I won't harm you."

The black raven cast her a weary glance, as if suspicious of her motives. With another squawk, it shuffled back a few paces, clicking its beak at her. Sarah took that as a no, but she waggled her fingers persistently underneath it's beak. She was certain she would be able to withdraw her hand fast enough in case the raven pecked at her, but she was wrong. There was a black blur, and Sarah cried out, cradling her bleeding finger in her other hand. The raven let out a choking noise that sounded like wheezy laughter before strutting away, pleased with itself.

Sarah let out a huff of displeasure and raised her finger to her mouth to suck on it. "Geeze, I finally get rid of Jareth, but it seems this entire Labyrinth is out to get me – Oh!"

The young woman was suddenly flat on her back, a heavy weight on her stomach pinning her to the ground. Two strong hands were gripping her upper arms rather tightly, and she let out a soft wimper of pain as she raised her wide emerald eyes to view the face of her attacker. Her eyes met with a pair of slanted blue ones set back into a handsomely tanned face framed with a curtain of jet-black hair that touched the man's shoulders. A raven's feather that was woven into his hair caught her attention, and she felt her face grow hot with embarrassment. It hadn't been a bird she was trying to coax to her after all, just another oddball that the Underground had spat out. Great.

She opened her mouth to speak. "What are you-"

"Hush!" The man growled viciously, and she felt cool steel touch her throat. Sarah swallowed loudly as the knife pressed against her skin. "I'll ask the questions here." Sarah rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to protest, but the man's eyes grew narrow, and she decided to remain quiet. For the moment, anyways.

"How exactly did you "get rid of Jareth"?"

Sarah groaned. She should have known to think before speaking. This was the Underground, people always took everything she said literally down here. "Look, I was only referring to the fact that Jareth had left the room, I didn't get rid of him." She glared up at the other man irritably. "Care to let me up now?"

He didn't budge, but his face grew less intimidating at her steady response. "Pray tell, how did you get up here? The King doesn't let any woman just waltz up into his wing of the castle, you know."

"I don't know, why don't you ask him?" Sarah was growing nervous at the fact that the man's hands were beginning to shake slightly, and the knife was still poised at her throat. She wondered what Jareth would do if he came back to find her dead in one of his rooms. She wondered if he would care that she died. Did she care if he cared? She let out a mental snort. Hell no. Of course she didn't care if he cared. No. No no no. All the same, though, it would be nice if she had at least one person at her funeral, seeing as how she didn't think her family knew anything about the Labyrinth, except for maybe Toby. Her musing were cut short as the door to the room swung open with a loud creak on its hinge.

"I must remember to tell Smudge to oil that blasted – Klaus?"

Sarah turned her head slightly, forgetting about the man and his knife for a moment, for history had just been achieved. The Goblin King had just been struck dumb in the middle of a sentence. Who would have thought that all it would take would be to have him walk into a room to see a man he apparently knew straddling a girl he had lost his own game to?

The man, evidently named Klaus, scrabbled up to his feet, grinning. The knife was quickly stowed in his pocket as he reached out to Jareth, who stepped forward and gave the dark-haired man a jerky hug before stepping back just as quickly. During this, Sarah just laid silently on the floor, her mouth hanging open as she watched. What the hell? _Jareth walks in on a man trying to kill me, and he gets a hug for it while I'm left here to lie on the floor?_ Grumbling to herself, Sarah rose unsteadily to her feet, gripping the edge of the bed for support. Jareth, as if suddenly remembering she was in the room, turned to her with a half exasperated, half annoyed expression on his face.

"Sarah, this is my cousin, Klaus." The King made a wave towards the man carelessly. Klaus blinked at her, looking from her to Jareth with a look of confusion. "Sarah? As in-"

"He is the prince of the North Forest, and his business rarely brings him here, except when he feels the desire to cause trouble," Jareth interrupted smoothly, shooting his cousin a nasty look. Sarah could not help the grin that curled the corners of her mouth; it was amusing to watch Jareth lecture someone else for causing trouble. She schooled her expression into what she hoped was a polite look of puzzlement when his eyes darted back to her, but she didn't think she succeeded, for his mouth thinned into a line, giving his face an uncharacteristically stony expression. He turned back to Klaus. "So, dear cousin, what brings you to my castle?"

Klaus cleared his throat and stepped forward to stand next to Jareth. Now that the two were right next to each other, Sarah realized they did look something alike. Both of their faces were angled and bony, and Klaus shared Jareth's slightly large nose. They even dressed the same, both sharing a bizarre like for obscenely tight pants, boots, poet's shirts, and vests. Though she had to admit, the look seemed quite incomplete without the riding crop and the wild, punk-rock hair.

Klaus was speaking now. "There was...a mild breach in the security of my father's castle a few nights ago. I was coming to see if anything similar had happened here." As he spoke, he glanced at Sarah frequently, and she wondered if he was giving a watered-down version of events because she was present in the room.

"Uncle Narcissus, concerned for my well being? I'm touched."

"Hardly," Klaus replied dryly. "You know as well as I do that my father couldn't care less about any other person, let alone his own blood. He sent me here to see if the intruder had come to attack any other kingdom in the Underground."

Jareth considered for a moment, his head tipped to the side and his wispy hair falling in front of his eyes. "There has been no incident reported of any such activity in the Labyrinth, Klaus. Now," his tone became clipped and icy, "care to tell me just exactly why I came in to find you holding a girl at knife point in my chambers?"

Sarah's eyebrows shot up into her hairline. His chambers? Because of what Klaus had said earlier, she had known that she had been placed in Jareth's personal wing, but she hadn't expected his own personal room.

Klaus looked sheepish, and his face turned a light shade of pink. Sarah would have called it adorable had he not just been threatening her life five minutes before. "Ah, well, I was coming up to see you when I noticed that you had a woman in your room that I did not recognize. So I went up to the window in my raven shape, and she tried to pet me. I assumed something was wrong, since whenever any other woman you were with ever saw me, she would try to smack me with something. Do you remember when I got hit over the head with that book? I think that was Madeline-"

"Something you probably deserved, no doubt," Jareth said wearily, while Sarah rolled her eyes. Other women? Trust Jareth to be a playboy. "Do continue on."

"So I peck her hand, she pulls it away, and says that she got rid of you." At this point, Jareth cocked an eyebrow and glanced at Sarah questioningly. She felt her face grow warm, and suddenly felt the lines in the stone floor grow very interesting. "With the attack in the North Forest, I automatically assumed the worst and pinned her down. She claimed that you had only been summoned out of the room, and I now know it to be true." Klaus bowed his head submissively. "I apologize if I have offended you in any way by touching her, I meant no harm by doing it."

"I forgive you," Sarah said sharply, before Jareth could respond. It irked her that the two spoke of her as if she were some possession, and not a human being. Klaus looked surprised that she had spoken out of turn, and Jareth, well, just looked like Jareth. The same haughty, arrogant look on his face as always, his arms folded across his chest in a why-do-you-think-I-care manner. He sent Sarah a look that clearly said "shut up", and she glared back at him, frustrated. She was the one who had been in a car crash, woken up in the Labyrinth (one of the last places she wanted to be in), and molested by a stranger all in the span of twenty-four hours. Damn it, she had a right to know what was going on! How did Klaus know who she was, and why was he apologizing to Jareth for touching her? Did he think she was his, some silly little china doll that Jareth played with before placing it back on the shelf with his other toys?

Jareth seemed to recognize her growing ire, for he turned back to Klaus. "Thank you for the warning, cousin, I will be sure to let you know if something comes into play here. Until that time, farewell." Klaus did not look offended by this sudden dismissal, but merely bowed low to Jareth and even gave Sarah a quick nod before transforming. The black raven zoomed past her through the window. She watched him fly north, sailing freely in lazy spirals as he grew smaller and smaller, until he was just a mere speck on the horizon, and then he was gone completely.

A strong arm snaking around her waist caused Sarah to stiffen. The King's chin came down to rest on her shoulder, and when he spoke, his hot breath caressed her ear gently. "Got rid of me, hmm?" He sounded amused, entertained even, and his tone caused Sarah to bristle defensively. The hand at her waist trailed steadily downward, coming to rest on her thigh, the fingers splayed out on the denim material of her jeans. Sarah silently thanked whatever god was watching at the moment that she had changed out of that little nightgown. Jareth would probably be having a field day with her if she still remained provocatively dressed. Her blood was on fire, but she couldn't tell if it was burning with anger, or something else. Whatever it was, she knew his goal was to seduce her. And if that was what he wanted, then so be it. She would make it her goal to resist his seduction at all costs. She knew it was childish, but she could not let him win. Her pride would not allow such a thing to occur.

Sarah leaned back into the muscled chest with a soft sigh, bringing her hand up to rest gently on top of his own, which was still gripping her thigh possessively. Jareth seemed to be encouraged by her actions, and his other arm wound around her stomach, his hand brushing the area just underneath her breasts, while his other hand moved sensuously up and down the inside of her leg, his glover fingers just barely ghosting across her jeans. Sarah didn't have to pretend that she was aroused. Her breathing sped up all on it's own, her face becoming coloured with heat, and a different heat was pooling in her stomach, curling and winding like columns of smoke searching for a release.

Her turned her around with a gentleness that she hadn't though him capable of. His hand was now resting on the swell of her backside, and his other hand was on the small of her back, drawing her close to him, close enough to feel his breath on her cheeks, to see his white-blond hair mix with her own dark strands, close enough to feel him pressing into her stomach, and she knew that whatever she was feeling, he felt it too, maybe stronger. His mismatched eyes gazed into her own, darkened with his emotions. She held his gaze steadily, but she could not control her breath, which escape her in quiet gasps.

His face was drawing nearer to hers, and she knew exactly what he was going to do. Her arms, on their own accord, wrapped around him, one going around his waist, and the other coming up around his head, her fingers tangling themselves into his hair. His breathing hitched at her motions, and he looked at her as if he was uncertain of her. She couldn't blame him. This was a part of herself that barely even she knew. But whatever his uncertainties, he apparently decided they weren't important enough to acknowledge, and he closed the final gap.

Sarah was instantly transported back to a time in her childhood. Her mother was baking brownies, you know, the kind that came in the box that you mixed together to make that sloppy, messy brownie batter. She remembered hanging onto the edge of the counter and dipping her finger into the bowl and bringing the sticky chocolate mess to her mouth for a taste. Her mother had scolded her, but the taste was so sweet and so good, the moment her mother turned her back again, Sarah's little hand scooped back in for another dose.

That's what this felt like.

Being in college, Sarah had had plenty of experiences with other men, but none of them kissed like this. Jareth's mouth moved slowly against hers, not too rough, but not too uncertain. No, he knew exactly what he was doing. The heat that had been pooling in her stomach became a pit of fire that brought all of Sarah's nerve endings to life. She was more aware of him pressing against her, more aware of his hands on her body, one of which had snuck up the back of her t-shirt and was rubbing small circles on her skin. But she couldn't forget herself. Not here, not anywhere. To give herself to Jareth would be the equivalent of selling her soul to the devil, something she was not about to do anytime soon.

Carefully, she brushed her tongue against his in an almost questioning manner. His arms tightened around her, pulling her flush against him in response. She withdrew quickly, wanting to make him come for her. And he did. She felt it when his tongue eased carefully into her mouth, and when it did, she bit down. Hard. Hard enough to taste his blood before he jerked his head back with a strangled cry, stumbling back a few steps.

They stared at each other for a moment, both panting hard, both of their faces flushed. Jareth's eyes were still dark with his desire, and his hair was wilder than usual, hanging around his face in tangle strands. Crimson beads of blood were beginning to pool at Jareth's mouth, but he didn't seem to notice it, his eyes still locked with hers. Sarah was the first to recover, surprisingly. She straightened up and forced her breathing to slow down. She surveyed Jareth as he stood opposite of her, still breathing hard, and smiled. This was it. She _did_ have power over Jareth. She had set the trap, and he had fallen into it headfirst.

"Well, Goblin King," she said coolly, proud when her voice came out steady instead of shaky, "it seems that two can play at this little game."

* * *

**Hoho, is that a lime-ish scene I spot in there? I haven't written anything Labyrinth in a year, so I knew this chapter might not be that pleasing, so I threw in a little action in there as a reward for you guys for getting to the end. Congrats :) Sarah's quite the saucy one, isn't she? And Klaus will make more appearances in the future, he's too cute to disappear from the storyline for good. As for this mysterious intruder...hmmm....**

**I'm sorry it took me so long to get this one out. I can't even attribute it to writer's block or no time on my hands. I was just a lazy author. Forgive me?**

**-Emma**


	6. I Fall Nearer To the Ground

**Geeze. 4500 words.**

* * *

For those few seconds, the two beings, one Fey and one human, glared at each other venomously, neither backing down. Jareth continued to breathe rather heavily, his great pants filling the silence of the room. A trickle of red appeared at the corner of his mouth, trailing down his chin, forming a bright crimson line in the growing darkness of the chambers. Sarah was reminded of the day before _-was it really only yesterday?- _of hurling a stone at the pure white owl-face, and the blood staining the snowy feathers, and the dark eyes of the owl becoming darker with anger and the promise of a swift retribution.

Humanoid-Jareth was giving her the same look now, his mismatched eyes narrowing to slits like a cat's as he raised one of his hands to his mouth. Sarah expected him to wipe away the blood like any other man would, but Jareth, of course, was no man. Rather than touching his face, he merely waved his hand in front of it. The blood disappeared, and Sarah had no doubt he had healed his wounded tongue in the process. The young woman jerked her head up stubbornly. No matter. The memory remained, and she doubted that even the Goblin King would try to stick his tongue down her throat again anytime soon.

A strong gust of wind blowing in through the window caught her off guard, and Sarah automatically broke her gaze with Jareth to look outside. What she saw there made her gasp softly.

Where there was once warm, late-afternoon sunshine, there was now dark clouds, swirling together over the Labyrinth and blocking out any sunlight from breaking through. The wind had picked up as well, howling through the city and making eerie whistling noises as it squeezed through the cracks in the castle. Thunder crashed overhead, followed immediately by a bolt of lighting as the first few drops of rain from the building storm began to fall. Sarah shivered in spite of herself; though she had eventually gotten over her fear that every thunderstorm would produce baby-snatching goblins and their king, there was still something about them that set her off. There was another loud bang, but this one didn't come from outside. Sarah whirled around, half expecting Jareth to be leaping at her, or throwing a crystal at her, but nothing was there.

The room was now empty, save for her.

She sat down on the bed, feeling grateful as the soft mattress sank under her weight. Sighing quietly, she laid back, murmuring in pleasure at the relaxing feeling she got when her head came to rest on one of the pillows. Sarah breathed in, smelling the strong scent of damp wood, and...something else she couldn't name. She inhaled again. It smelled like mountain air would smell, crisp, clean, and cool, without the taint of pollution. It was almost...magical. Realization struck her, and at the same moment, thunder roared overhead. Sitting up with a cry, Sarah threw the pillow against the opposite wall, where it landed on the floor with a soft thud. It was his smell, uniquely and magically his alone. She would not sleep with it in her head. The woman buried her face into the mattress instead, which still carried the scent, but she didn't feel as if it would wrap around her mind and body and strangle her. It was diluted. She could deal with diluted.

She sat up and leaned against the headboard, surveying her surroundings with a critical eye. From the bed, which was tucked quietly in a corner near the window, she had a good view of the rest of the bedroom. The walls were made of stone, of course, but little of the gray showed through, as the majority of the walls were covered with large woven tapestries. Some were big enough that Sarah could tell what they were depicting even in the semi-darkness. One showed three people, a man, a woman, and a haughty-looking boy with odd-colored eyes that could only be Jareth.

She studied the other two, guessing that they were his mother and father. Jareth as she knew him now was an exact copy of the man depicted, complete with wild hair and the "I-know-something-you-don't-know" expression. The only difference was the eyes. This man's eyes were a pale gray that looked almost unnatural. Sarah moved on to the woman. Her features were softer, with a more rounded face, gently curling hair, and slanted blue eyes. To be honest, if the woman was Jareth's mother, Sarah didn't see much of her features in her son, with his angular face and fierce mane.

Her eyes flickered down to the boy. Jareth looked oddly unhappy in this particular tapestry. In fact, she could tell that he wasn't even looking full-on at whoever had made it, but was rather staring off to the side. Despite his obvious reluctance to be captured forever in a cloth weave, his chin was still jutting up, his mouth set in a firm line and his nose turned up in the air. Sarah could not help the grin that crept onto her face. He was regal and noble through-and-through.

The others hanging on the wall were interesting to look at, but not nearly as informing as the first. One showed a white owl with outstretched wings, holding the sun in one of its talons and a crystal in the other. Yet another was blazoned with a symbol that looked like some sort of family crest, but Sarah could not make it out in the darkness. The room was getting darker as the weather become more and more violent, making it hard to make out anything in the room other than things a few feet away.

Another gust of wind tore through the room, and Sarah shivered. The t-shirt and jeans weren't doing much for her, but she didn't have the strength to get up and go to her suitcase for something warmer. That realization puzzled her. Wasn't she just making out with Jareth not ten minutes ago? Hadn't she just nearly bitten his tongue off and then had a fierce stare-down with him? Where had this exhaustion come from all of a sudden? She didn't know, and at the moment, was too tired to play detective. Giving in to her shivers, Sarah drew the heavy blankets and comforters around herself tightly, relaxing as her body warmed almost immediately. His cool scent washed over her from all around, but she was too tired to really care, and too cold to throw the blankets to the ground.

So tired...so tired...

_I hate the cold..._

As her eyes slid closed and the sound of the storm faded away, the boy-Jareth in the tapestry watched over her out of the corner of his faded mismatched eyes.

**OoOoOoOoO**

The first thing Sarah registered upon waking was that her back hurt.

Then she realized her head hurt too. And her neck.

Heck, everything was hurting.

And she was very, _very_ cold.

Opening her eyes, she sat up with a groan as the pain in her head intensified. A chuckle sounded somewhere above her, and startled, she looked up. Jareth's face was somehow above her, smiling smugly. How did he get up there?

For a moment, Sarah wondered if she had tripped into the land of the truly insane, but then she realized that she was on the floor, with no blanket or pillow or anything, and Jareth was perched snugly on the bed, reclining back against the headboard with his gloved hands _(does he ever take those damn gloves off?) _folded casually behind his head. Sarah was struck with the image of a cat stretched luxuriously across a sofa in front of the fire while the dog looked in from outside.

"Did you have a nice rest?"

Anger rose like bile in Sarah's throat, but she bit back the things she would have liked to say. Still, her fury must have been apparent in her face, because Jareth's smile grew wider as he looked down on her. Smug little bastard. He must have moved her to the floor while she slept.

"I've had worse," Sarah bit back curtly. In reality, she couldn't remember a time when she had woken up feeling like shit except for the few times she'd had the stomach flu, but she wasn't about to let him know that. At least she wasn't heaving her guts out like she would be doing if she was sick.

"Somehow I doubt that."

Sarah's lip curled. "What do you know? In what time in your pampered life have you ever slept anywhere other than a bed you had waiting for you?"

Jareth swung his legs over the side of the bed and put his feet on the floor in front of her, so is knees were level with her face. Sarah glanced down at his feet, which, as usual, were still encased in the black boots. She felt a stab of disappointment. It always seemed that he was one step ahead, dressed in fresh new clothes while she sat on the floor in front of him, still wearing the same baggy shirt and jeans the had on the day before, her hair tousled and her brain fogged with sleep. She looked back up to see Jareth regarding her with a surprisingly calm expression, his elbow resting on his knee while his chin was propped up in the palm of his hand.

"There are those who would believe the same," he said nonchalantly, his voice soft. "That I grew up without a care in the world, other than the occasional annoying goblin." His eyes trailed to somewhere over her shoulder, and Sarah realized without having to turn that he was staring at the same tapestry that she had been studying the night before, the "family" portrait. "It seems no one could ever imagine that I would spend nights in trees and bushes rather than return to my room."

_You don't exactly endear yourself to those you meet, _Sarah thought unsympathetically. _I'm not exactly surprised no one would feel any concern for you. _"Why are you telling me this?"

A shrug. "Because I can."

"Why were you so unhappy?"

A sharp glance this time, through narrowed eyes. "What makes you think I was unhappy?"

Sarah gestured to the portrait without breaking eye contact. "You don't exactly look too thrilled there."

"Ahh." He paused for a moment, running one of his hands through his wild hair, leaving it even more frazzled-looking than before. "I wasn't too fond of posing for portraits." But his voice had changed, becoming more guarded and stoic. Sarah knew he was lying, and she bristled angrily. Did he think that she was a little girl who could be swayed and silenced with a single sentence?

"Tell me the truth!" she snapped with conviction.

A crystal flew through the air towards her and hit her throat, but rather than shattering, it absorbed into her skin. Sarah opened her mouth to give the Goblin King the greatest cussing out of his life for daring to throw one of those thrice-damned things at her, but no words came out of her mouth. She tried speaking several times, but found that she could not. Her hands went automatically to her throat, but Sarah could not feeling anything out of the ordinary there. Mutely, she glared up at Jareth, who was sitting there with a haughty look on his face.

"Do not think that you can tell me what to do," he sneered, rising completely to his feet. Sarah, who was still sitting on the floor, shrank back a little as he towered over her. "Perhaps you can get a bed when you learn to address me with the proper respect a King deserves." And with that, he vanished from the bedroom, leaving nothing behind.

The moment he was gone, Sarah leaped to her feet and screamed for all she was worth. No sound came out of her mouth, of course, but it left her feeling a little bit better than before. A little. She paced back and forth through the room like a tiger, plotting all the ways she could get revenge on Jareth while he slept. Her furious pacing brought her in front of the bedroom door, sitting there as a silent witness to her temper. Sarah paused and stared at it for a moment. What were the odds that it would be unlocked?

She rested a tentative hand on the doorknob and twisted slowly. To her surprise, it gave way and opened easily without a sound. Sarah peered out into the hallway and looked left and right. Amazingly, the place was empty. Not even a goblin could be seen scurrying into the shadows. Relieved, Sarah crept out into the hall, still glancing around furtively. When she was convinced that nothing was going to leap at her, she broke into a sprint.

The room she had been in before, all those years ago, the one where she had found the twisted, upside down stair cases and had rescued Toby. The place where she had defied a King and won back her brother and her own freedom in the final hour of the game. That was where she needed to go.

The problem would be getting there.

Sarah skidded around a corner and flew quickly down a flight of stairs. It was here that she saw the first goblin in six years. Her body froze at the sight of it as it paused in whatever it had been doing before she had come thundering down the steps to stare at her with wide yellow eyes. She had forgotten just how ugly the things could be. This one in particular had a head that was twice the size of its own body, with no visible hair unless you counted the white wisps coming out of its tiny ears. And she wasn't even sure if that was hair.

The goblin tipped its head to the side in curiosity. "Queenie?" It inquired in a decidedly deep, male voice.

"Queenie?" Sarah echoed, her voice shaking. Just what exactly had Jareth told his loyal subjects about her? Then she realized she had regained the ability to speak. Perhaps Jareth hadn't put as much power into that crystal as he would have liked. That thought gave her hope. It seemed that even now, Jareth still did not have much power over her.

He scurried closer to her, leading Sarah to take several steps back. "Smudge, Smudge sees Jarethking looking at a girl face in his seeing stones sometimes. Ain't no other human girls here, 'sides you."

Seeing stones? The goblin must have meant the crystals. And hadn't Jareth mentioned a Smudge when he had come into the room the day before?

"Are you familiar with the King?"

The goblin nodded fervently, and Sarah found herself wondering how his large head bobbing back and forth didn't set him off balance somehow. "Smudge is Jarethking's most loyal, the only one he trusts in his wing of the castle, girlie."

Well, he did seem a little more competent than the other goblins she had previously met.

Sarah was struck with an idea. "Say Smudge," she said in a voice that she hoped was alluring, yet convincing. "I'm an...acquaintance of Jareth's. I need to find a room full of stairs that he asked me to go to. Do you think that you could help me to find it?"

Smudge practically bounced up and down in glee. "Smudge would be delighted, Queenie. Follow Smudge, he knows the way to the Escher Room." And then he tottered off, moving surprising quickly for his size. Sarah followed close behind, not wanting to lose him in the vast castle. The creature had been so eager to help, she almost felt bad in using him, and almost dreaded what would happen to him when Jareth found out he had been the key to her escape.

Almost.

She walked briskly beside the goblin as it grasped the denim of her jeans to lead her in random directions. "So he looks at me in his crystals?"

A solemn nod. "Oh yes. And 'is face becomes most frightful when he does, Queenie. Smudge, Smudge stays out of Jarethking's way when he looks into the seeing stones. Bad things, bad things."

Sarah's stomach clenched at his words. What exactly did the Goblin King have in store for her then, and if seeing her face made him angry, why had he been so accommodating the past couple of days?

The odd pair rounded another corner and found themselves almost nose-to-wood with a single door. Sarah held her breath as she reached for the handle and pulled it open. The sight of the room, the same as it had been when she left it, knocked the wind out of her. It was still the same confusing jumble of stairs that led nowhere and doors that led to places she did not want to know about. She turned her head to look at Smudge, who was backing away now shaking his head at her inquisitive look.

"No, no Queenie. Smudge...Smudge must get back to work." And just like that, he was gone, the sound of his scrambling feet fading away quickly.

Tingles ran up and down her spine. The goblin's departure had been too quick for her taste. Maybe he had sensed something she couldn't. Sarah knew that she didn't have much time left to get out of the castle. Who knew when Jareth would be back to check on her? Taking a deep breath, Sarah ran through the doorway and into the room.

Immediately, the setup of the room disoriented her. She lost sense of direction as she faced the upside down and sideways staircases, some on the ceiling, some on the walls, and the others on the ground far below her feet. Sarah shook her head in an attempt to clear her mind. She wasn't about to let some acid-trip room prevent her from getting out of here. Smudge's words kept echoing in her head...she didn't want to experience first hand Jareth's wrath. Though she stood up to him and defied him in any way she possibly could, Sarah feared the Goblin King. She feared his touch and his soft words, and was afraid of herself whenever she was alone with him. She couldn't lose herself to him and let him win the game that had began all those years ago. She had thought the game had ended with her first escape. But it seemed it was just beginning.

Sarah ran down one staircase and through the doorway at the bottom, only to find herself higher up than where she started. Gritting her teeth in frustration, she went back the way she came, only to find herself running upside down. She froze, afraid to lift her feet in the fear that separating them from the floor would cause her to plummet to her death. But it was either fall, or wait for Jareth to come and find her. Closing her eyes, she lifted her left foot.

The effect was immediate. Apparently, she didn't have Jareth's ability to walk upside down (which confused her – how had she gotten upside down and stayed there to begin with?). A loud scream ripped from her mouth as she fell through empty air, but was cut short when she hit the concrete steps of another staircase. There was a loud crack as she landed on her arm, and pain lanced up her spine. She tumbled down the steps, each bounce adding another bruise to her body. Sarah cradled her now-broken arm as close to her body as she could, wondering if she would just keep falling forever and ever. But apparently, not even she was that unlucky.

Sarah rolled slowly to a stop one one of the landings. She opened her eyes, but closed them just a quickly; between the tumbling and the pain, everything around was swimming in and out of focus. Her arm was definitely broken, as were several of her limbs and maybe one of her ankles. She made no attempt to stand, fearing that one misstep could send her back over the edge of the landing. Hot tears coursed down her cheeks as she laid there, curled in on herself, silently lamenting her botched escape attempt and wondering if she would ever return home to her family.

Loud steps echoed through the silent room, and Sarah moaned. They were too heavy and loud to be Smudge, and there was only one other being in the Labyrinth she knew large enough To make such footsteps, but small enough as to not walk with a shuffle. She curled up more, hiding her face in her knees as he approached where she was lying.

Jareth's knees cracked as he squatted down to study her. "You know," he said in a conversational tone, as if he were merely commenting on the weather, "your first clue should have been the fact that Smudge is my most loyal goblin servant. If anyone ever asks to enter this room, he always comes to me to alert me. And in this case," he paused, and Sarah could feel his eyes roaming down her battered form, "his efforts actually paid off."

Strong hands gripped her shoulders, and Sarah found herself flipped onto her back. She let out a cry as Jareth jostled her arm in the process. He ignored it. "Look at me." Sarah turned her face away from his voice, squeezing her eyes shut tighter. He make a sound of disapproval in the back of his throat, and gripped her cheek in one of his hands, forcing her to face him. "Look at me, Sarah."

There was no resisting that dark voice. Sarah reluctantly opened her eyes to face him. His face was blurred for a moment, but then came into sharper focus after a few seconds, and she realized it was just inches away from her own.

"That's better," Jareth purred, patting her face like she was a dog who had just performed an entertaining trick. "Now, you have two options, my dear. Either you can accept the fact that you are dying and need my magic to save you, or accept the fact that you are dying, and would rather die than live. Would you like to live?"

_That depends on life I would have, _Sarah thought coolly, but the blood beginning to pool in her mouth prevented her from asking how she would live out the rest of her life. But would she want to die? Was she ready? Fear gripped her at taking that final leap into the unknown, crossing a lake and not knowing what lay on the other side. No, she decided. She wasn't ready to die. Not now.

So she nodded.

"Good. I take it you realized my voice spell has worn off?"

Nod nod.

"So you must realize that the last words you said during your last little trip through the Labyrinth are still in effect." Jareth paused here, as if waiting for an interjection from her, which Sarah would have certainly given if she had been able to. She knew what he was going to ask, and she would not give it to him.

"Grant me power over you."

No. Sarah shook her head.

"Sarah, be reasonable. The only way for my magic to heal injuries to this extent is to let me in. Other wise, it will wear off and your injuries will return, and you will most likely die."

Sarah opened her mouth to speak. "What about when you healed me after the car accident?" She rasped out.

She watched Jareth shake his head. "Those were minor cuts and scratches, Sarah. This is a matter of life and death."

Sarah closed her eyes and weighed her options. She most certainly did not want to die, but she was reluctant to put her life in the hands of a being who was apparently a very sore loser. She was afraid of what he would make her do, and what he would do to her. But she didn't want her life to end. Not now, not here in the Labyrinth where no one would mourn her, save a fox, a dwarf, and a monster.

"Will I be able to see Toby?"

"Yes."

"Are you lying?"

"Perhaps."

Opening her eyes, Sarah looked at Jareth again, scrutinizing his face. As always, his face gave away no emotion he wanted her to see, instead stoic and calm as he returned her stare. She did not know the worst he could do. But she could take it. She wasn't some naïve little kid anymore, running around and complaining about unfairness. She was a woman, and she could take what anyone dished out at her. She knew now that Jareth intended to shatter her spirit. But she would prove him wrong. No one would ever take her fire, regardless of any power they had over her. She would like to see him try. Maybe she'd bite his tongue again in the process.

So she nodded, wondering if she'd have to say any special hocus pocus.

But instead, Jareth leaned over her and pressed his lips to her forehead. Fire seared through the place where his mouth touched her skin to every part of her body. Sarah felt it burning just underneath her skin, traveling through her veins to her heart, where it balled up and pulsed, a small fireball sending waves of flames to her fingertips and toes, and every place in between. Through the pain of this new development, Sarah realized the pain from her injuries had vanished. So this was magic healing...part of her was glad she had missed it the first time around, while another part of her drank in Jareth's magic hungrily, only contributing to the fire inside of her chest.

Jareth pulled away after what seemed like an eternity and sat back, leaving Sarah feeling strangely empty as the fire inside of her went out. She sat up and glanced at him. His face was flushed slightly, but his eyes were aglow with a wild light that Sarah did not like.

"Well," he said, rising up to his feet and staring down at her smugly, "that wasn't so bad, was it?"

Sarah had a very bad feeling that she would not like whatever was coming next.

* * *

**Longest chapter ever. EVER.  
**

**Haha, I know what you're all thinking: _OMGWTF how can she possibly beat him if he has power over her?_ Chillax. Sarah's got a few tricks up her sleeves yet, but Jareth's not entirely harmless either.**

**Congratulations to MRS. Vic Wit on getting married. I hope your wedding was a blast, and that your honeymoon went well -winkwink- . And I also hope that you'll update GM soon, because I'm thirsty for some lemonade -cough- I mean water...water...**

**Thanks as usual to all of my reviewers, you guys kick ass and give me initiative.**


	7. It Seems That I've Been Searching

**She lives! Sorry for the, um, three year wait.**

* * *

"No. Way."

Sarah hovered at the door to the now-familiar bed chamber, glaring at Jareth's back.

She had followed him obediently back to the private wing of the castle, looking for all the world like a whipped dog. She was tired, and her head was reeling with the implications of what she had just condemned herself to. And now he was pointing expectantly at his bed, bidding her to lay down and do goodness knows what.

Like hell she would.

He turned around to give her an exasperated glance. She gave him a pointed glare in turn.

"Come now, precious, just this morning you woke up on my floor. Consider it a step up."

"I would rather take the floor."

"You didn't seem to have any qualms about sleeping in my bed last night," he quipped, and she flushed, looking away angrily.

No, she hadn't had a problem with sleeping there. But now, there was the not-so-tiny difference of being in the presence of someone with _power_ over her, someone who had tried to defeat her before and failed, and had probably spent the last few years plotting out intricate revenges.

Jareth, either ignorant to her internal struggles or deliberately ignoring them, seated himself on the bed first, reaching down to pull off his boots. Sarah felt her mouth go suddenly dry – she had a sneaking suspicion that if he was undressing himself, her clothes wouldn't be far behind.

"It's still early afternoon," she muttered, looking at the window through which sunlight still spilled, leaving the interior of the room bright.

He waved a hand carelessly, and a heavy, dark curtain (_had it been there before?_) came across the window, effectively blocking out all light. For one horrible moment, she stood in pitch darkness with the King just a few feet away, but then there was a rustle of fabric (him moving again, she assumed) and a few candles that stood around the room sputtered to live, giving their surroundings a soft orange glow. His eyes glittered at her from where he sat, and she swallowed, suddenly feeling like she'd prefer the dark after all.

"Romantic," she managed to choke out coolly.

"I have my moments," he responded lightly, cheerfully, swinging his boot-free feet up onto the bed and bringing his hands together behind his head, leaning back into the pillows. "Take off your shoes."

"Why?"

He tut-tutted. "Most do not get into bed with them still on, do they?"

"We never agreed that I was going to bed in the first place."

"_Sarah_," he said softly, a warning clear in his voice. As he spoke her name, she felt her spine curve and her knees bend without her permission until she was kneeling, her hands resting lightly on the laces of her battered shoes. "I could make you do it."

"Then do it," she spat back bitterly, wanting to scream at her lack of control. "Make me. Isn't that the whole point of this?"

"Hm, yes, in a way. But don't sell yourself short, darling," he added, chuckling. "This isn't all about powerplay. You are a very beautiful woman, after all. Now." The tone of his voice changed, becoming silkier and coaxing, almost loving. "Am I going to have to make you do it?"

Sarah bit the inside of her cheek as she shifted. "No."

He smiled as she hastily pulled her shoes off. "Very good."

She looked up at him, her eyes narrowed. "I'm not a dog to be praised," she growled.

"And yet, look at you, kneeling at my feet so nicely."

Sarah sprang to her feet immediately. "Stop!"

An interested gleam entering his eyes, Jareth sat up, sliding his legs off the bed so he was facing her directly, smiling his smug little smile. "Alright, precious, you've proved your point. But now what will you do?"

She said nothing, clenching her hands into fists at her sides. Like he didn't know perfectly well that she _couldn't_ do anything, anything at all.

His smile broadened. "Come here."

When she did nothing to move towards him, he made a disappointed sound in his throat. "Sarah."

Her left leg moved forward on its own, but it moved at the same time she was trying to _stop_ it from moving, and the result was the feeling that she had split her kneecap. She let out a cry of pain.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" Jareth observed softly, seemingly unaffected. "It's a pain you wouldn't have to deal with if you'd simply listen, for once. _Do as I say…_"

Sarah was torn. Going to him was the equivalent to admitting defeat, throwing in the towel, however you wanted to say it. But fighting his will was out of the question, if the stinging pain remaining in her knee was anything to go by. He could break every bone in her body without moving a muscle.

She hadn't forfeited her will to let herself be crushed like this. There would be a way out. But until then, to keep herself in one piece long enough to actually _find_ that way, she would have to play the game by his rules.

At least, that was what she told herself as she walked toward him stiffly, holding her head up as proudly as she dared, wishing she could claw that smug look off of his face.

She stood so close to him now that their knees touched. It gave her a strange thrill, to, for once, be towering over the seated King. But when he looked up at her, his hooded eyes black with desire and pure want, the feeling of power fled as quickly as it had dropped into her mind. His hands drifted up from where they had been resting on the sheets, gently brushing the backs of her thighs with touches so light, she could have pretended to have imagined them. But then he pressed on the backs of knees, and before she could steel herself and force herself to comply, they gave out automatically, sending her into his lap. And that was something she could not, no matter how vivid her imagination was, pretend was not happening.

His arms came around her to hold them together, and Sarah was left to flail uncertainly with her hands for a moment until they came to rest on his shoulders.

"Don't look so stricken, my dear." He purred, his hands tracing indistinguishable patterns up and down her back. "This," he gestured vaguely to the bed, "this would have happened sooner or later."

"You sound so _certainnn!_"

As she spoke, he had taken the opportunity to roll them, and the end of her sentence ended on a rather shrill cry of surprise as he tumbled her onto her back effortlessly. She came to rest with her head cushioned by pillows, her back pressed against the mattress, and Jareth lounging calmly between her thighs, propped up on his elbows, his prominent nose only a few inches from her own.

"A warning…would have been nice," she panted out harshly.

He seemed amused at her breathlessness, long fingers reaching out to toy with her dark hair. "I'll be sure to take that into consideration for next time."

She ignored his insinuation at a "next time", pursing her lips and trying to act as though they were sitting down to afternoon tea. Or something. "Why do you think this would have happened sooner or later, then?"

"Sarah," he breathed, dipping his head to bury his face into her throat, an action that had her heart stuttering and her breath faltering. She wished he would stop saying her name like that – it actually made her want to listen to what he had to say. "Look at us, feel us, and tell me that we don't belong together."

"We don't belong together," she responded easily. He chuckled.

"Then I shall simply have to endeavor to change your mind."

His hands ceased their stroking and playful twisting in her hair to travel down her sides, barely skimming the fabric of her shirt, until they came to rest at the hem. They fisted in the material and pulled up, revealing the pale skin underneath inch by inch. Forgetting about her resolve to play his game, forgetting about everything, even, her hands rose from where they have been laying uselessly to wrap around his.

"No," she said quietly. She couldn't play this game. While she was by no means a blushing virgin, this, this _whatever-the-hell-it-was _had higher stakes than she could even comprehend. "No."

Jareth lifted his head to meet her eyes, and it was as though every single emotion she had ever seen him portray was laid raw on his face. Anger, happiness, sorrow, joy, coming together in a myriad of mixed feeling.

"Yes," he responded softly, one of his hands leaving her shirt to lay flat on the exposed skin of her stomach. The material of his gloves was foreign against her skin, and was cool as ever. She shivered. "Yes," he said again, peeling her fingers easily from his other hand and replacing them at her sides, though, to his credit, he made no attempt to pin them there. There was no smugness or triumph in his voice, but simply a sense of certainty, as though she had asked him if the sun was going to rise.

He resumed his work, pulling his shirt up her body, and she hesitantly raised her arms obligingly so he could slide it over her head. Where it went, she had no idea, as she was rather concerned with the way his eyes had settled hungrily on her skin, which had broken out in gooseflesh in response to the cool air. But he made no attempt to undress her further, simply sliding the palms of his hands from her shoulders and down to her waist.

"Your turn."

It didn't take a genius to figure out what he meant.

Her hands trembled as she lifted them again, though this time, she settled them at his waist, where the loose fabric of his shirt was tucked into his breeches. He hummed quietly in response, his eyes sliding shut, though his hands remained steady on her waist. It took a few tries, which had the corners of his mouth quirking in amusement, but she eventually worked the silky material free. Before she could lose her nerve she pulled it quickly over his head. He laughed, a strange, out of place sound given their positions, and pulled away from her to slide the shirt down his arms, flinging it to some unknown corner of the room when he was through with it.

His skin was unflawed as marble, and just as pale, And she was sure, had she had the desire to reach out and touch it, it would be as hard and unyielding as well. And she did have the desire. Her hands twitched where they rested on his arms, but she chose not to move them. As her eyes traveled up from his flat stomach to his chest, she noticed the horned medallion hanging from his chest. As though sensing her gaze, his hand went up to clasp around it, and it vanished.

"A symbol of my station," he said flippantly with a shrug to her unasked question. "Though it would only get in the way now." He smirked condescendingly at the blush that spread across her cheeks. "And now, it's my turn, I believe."

With surprisingly nimble fingers, he had the button of her jeans undone and the zipper pulled down before she even realized he had moved. Ignoring her flinch, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of her jeans (though, thankfully, leaving her underwear untouched) and pulled down in one fluid motion. Sliding one arm under her knees, he lifted her legs to pull them completely off, and they joined her shirt in the uncharted darkness of the room.

When he touched her, she could hardly stand it. His hands were like ice, roving over her body, leaving trails of chills in their wake as they slid up and down her legs. She tried to twist away, but his hands closed around her calves and held fast as he stared down at her.

"What?"

_Aside from the obvious? _She thought to herself. She was disappointed in herself that she was angry that his hands were cold, and not that they had been touching her. But if she had to resign herself to this, she wasn't going to make a hell out of something already bad enough to begin with.

"Your hands are cold."

He looked dumbfounded for a brief moment, but then he smiled slyly and extended his hands. "Take the gloves off, then, precious thing."

Sarah, who had not expected such an easy admission from him, especially since he seemed to wear his gloves constantly, was instantly suspicious. But the way his hands dangled in front of her seemed harmless enough, and so she reached up to peel the fabric away from one hand, and then from the other. And when the gloves were off, sitting in her hand uselessly, she gave them a curious glance – the coolness seemed to come from the leather itself.

Of course, it was always a mistake to look away from the Goblin King.

His hands returned to her flesh, this time coming to rest on her chest directly under her breasts, and she gasped at the vividly different sensation.

His hands were _hot_. Wherever he brushed his fingers left a path of fire on her skin, a burning sensation that sank beneath and invaded her very blood. And not only that, but the magic that was _pouring_ from his hands spread quickly over her body like flames, leading her to recall earlier in the day when he had healed her, sending his magic to her heart to be pumped out to the rest of her body. But this was different. This was uncontained, raw, pure, magic, and it went everywhere. Without any specific destination to go to, it sank wherever it pleased into her skin, igniting a fire in her blood that had her writhing under his hands from the simple caress.

Jareth, too, seemed to be affected by the lack of a barrier between his hands and her skin. His jaw was clenched, his breathing shallower, and his mouth drawn into a feral snarl as he stared down at her, as though he were seconds away from taking her however he pleased. Their eyes met, Sarah gasping loudly.

"Please…please."

His lip curled as realization dawned.

It wasn't him she wanted.

"No."

"What…_what_?" Sarah blinked rapidly as he pulled away, tugging his gloves from where they were twisted in her hands. "But I want-"

"You silly girl," Jareth cut across coldly. "Your mind is so addled by my magic right now, you probably couldn't even tell me your own name, let alone decide what you want." He drew his gloves back on smoothly, and when she reached for him, her eyes still clouded, he circled her hands with an iron grip.

It did the trick. The icy touch coursed quickly through her body, completely countering the effects of his bare hands. The flush on her skin paled, and her eyes cleared. For a moment, she was confused, and her confusion quickly turned to embarrassment as she realized how she had acted, a blush creeping up her neck to color her face. She pulled her hands away, and, to her surprise, he actually let them go. And for a heartbeat, they sat in silence.

Until Sarah rounded on him viciously.

"Why take them off, then," she growled, folding her arms. "If you knew what would happen?"

He stared down at her, still on his knees between her legs. "I had thought it would make you more…compliant."

She laughed humorlessly. "And it did. So, why stop?"

"It wasn't me you wanted."

"But you still would have gotten what you wanted. What difference does it make?"

He looked at her then, and she was surprised at the depth in his mismatched eyes.

"All the difference in the world."

* * *

**Hosnap.**


End file.
